


Touch Too Much

by pinkpompom



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Rough Sex, Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:52:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9441176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkpompom/pseuds/pinkpompom
Summary: A little exploration in Amanda's new relationship with the Rowdy 3, and all that comes with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in a while, and first for this fandom/pairing. Not even sure _what_ to classify these guys as, but I guess vampires is the best thing? Thanks for reading, anyway!

The dusky sun set with a soft glow on the camp of the Rowdy crew, casting long shadows over the dry ground and patches of grass. A bright fire burned in the centre of their setup, sparking wildly as various items were thrown on to keep it alight. Gripps, Cross, and Vogle kicked up a fog of dry dust with their partying, yelling with reckless abandon into the empty field that surrounded them. Amanda watched on, sitting by Martin on an overturned milk crate, smiling at the endless stream of energy that seemed to fill them. She'd already spent the larger part of the day destroying cars, terrorizing assorted men in the city, and gulping beer. This was a much welcomed break. 

 

She'd tried talking to Martin, but he didn't always have a lot to say. Mostly grunts in agreement, or a comment here and there about what the others were up to. 

 

"You guys don't have phones or anything, do you?" 

 

Martin scrunched half his face up, as if to say 'Really?'

 

"Yeah I thought so," Amanda stretched her legs out, clunking her dusty boots together. "I kinda want to get rid of mine, but I guess it's the only way I can keep in touch with Todd and Dirk."

 

"We can always find them if and when we need to." Martin's eyes didn't leave the fire as he spoke, he seemed very certain of himself. 

 

"Yeah? You guys sure are full of surprises." Amanda laughed, still enjoying all the new things she was learning to get used to. "Anything else I should know about?"

 

Martin tilted his head, silently asking her to expand on the question. 

 

"Y'know, like, powers? You guys are basically vampires, right?"

 

"Somethin’ like that."

 

"Well, I'm glad you are whatever you are, I haven't felt this free in..." Amanda sighed. "Years, really." Instinctively, she placed her hand on the edge of Martin's shoulder, wanting to look him in the eyes as she thanked him.

 

Martin rumbled with discomfort, his body tensing under the warmth of her touch.

 

“I uh… are you okay? Can I not touch you?’ Amanda withdrew her hand. 

 

Martin tsk’d, turning his head away as he took a drag from his cigarette.

 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I was just trying to be friendly.” Amanda crossed her arms, doing her best to look indifferent to the situation.

 

“S’fine.” Martin straightened his posture, the leather of his vest crinkling. He leaned his head on one ringed hand, the cigarette between his fingers dangling lazily as he watched Vogle and Cross dance and fight around the fire.

 

It was quite an interesting spectacle, Amanda thought to herself; this bizarre combination of dancing to the music blasting from the van, all the while swinging punches and occasionally nougie-ing each other. She’d learned to be a part of it, her hair constantly getting ruffled by any of the 3. But Martin, on the other hand, always seemed slightly removed from the whole group. He observed more than he ever participated, and didn’t seem to enjoy getting involved with the usual friendly roughhousing.

 

“Come!” Vogle yelled, a wide grin stretched across his face as he extended a hand to Amanda. “Dance!”

 

It was hard to resist the offer, and before she knew it Amanda was being hauled over the dusty ground to join them in their fireside romp. Tossing her hair around, stomping her feet, screaming at the top of her lungs, it all felt so liberating. It was still taking a bit of time to find her place within the Rowdy 3 (or 5 now really?), though everyone had done a pretty good job of making her feel welcome. Amanda could feel Martin's gaze on her, but did her best to act as if she didn't notice. But she did, and she enjoyed putting on a show for him.

 

Once the fire died down and there was nothing left to burn, the panting group settled down for the night. The usual arrangement as of late had been a couple of mattresses on the ground outside the van, the stars as their nightlight and the distant sound of highway traffic as their ambient background. Amanda huddled up between Gripps and Vogle, but she listened to the deep breathing from Martin the next mattress over. 

 

 

**/**

 

 

The next morning Amanda found herself the last left on the mattress, with Gripps nudging her awake. 

 

"We're heading out, wake up." He gave a toothy grin as she opened her eyes, helping to pull her to her feet. 

 

"Oh, yeah, okay," Amanda gathered herself, rubbing her eyes to wake up. 

 

"We're gonna get coffee!" Vogle declared, poking his head out of the back of the van. 

 

"Coffee?" Amanda perked up at the thought. "Where do you guys get coffee?" 

 

"Where ever!" Gripps shrugged as he made his way to hop in the van.

 

Amanda followed, tying her hair up into a messy ponytail. "Like, you guys don't seem like Starbucks kinda guys."

 

"We're _free_ coffee kinda guys!" Cross said a little manically. 

 

"You mean you steal it." Amanda scoffed, imaging how that would look. 

 

"We take what we need, nothing more." Martin's voice cut cleanly through the chatter from the drivers seat.

 

Vogle nodded hurriedly, throwing himself into the passenger seat as the van revved up with its usual snarling growl.

 

The ride into the city was as fun as it ever was, with high energy music blasting from every orifice of the vehicle, and Cross, Gripps, and Vogle singing along. Once they got to their destination, however, was when the fun truly started. 

 

The door swung open with an unceremonious thud, everyone scrambling to get out with bats in hand. 

 

"Yeah yeah yeah!" Cross chanted as he ran headfirst into one of the coffee shop windows, smashing the glass with his bat. The others followed suit, kicking over tables and shoving all the self serve milk and sugar off the counter. Everyone in the shop ran out practically screaming, leaving an empty shop with naught but one employee left shaking behind the till. 

 

Martin swaggered up to the counter with his arms draped over the bat resting on his shoulders, demeanour as intimidating as ever. "Five large coffees, please." 

 

"I, uh, uh," the 16 year old girl behind the counter stood with her mouth agape. 

 

"If you don't mind, we'd like to be going."

 

With shaking hands, the barista poured out five cups of coffee, her eyes darting back and forth from her work to the panting group of filthy men waiting, staring at her. 

 

"Thank you." Martin grabbed his cup and sauntered out, with the other three scrambling to grab their own and follow out behind him. 

 

Amanda took hers last, giving a weak smile to the barista. "Sorry about that," and followed them out, hopping in the van just as the doors closed and the wheels screeched back to life. 

 

 

**/**

 

 

In a rare moment of calm, Amanda had the chance to speak with Vogle in a more private setting. Martin, Cross, and Gripps had decided to spend what was left of the daylight wailing on a decrepit car left in the overgrowth of the field they were staying in for the night. The sound of metal crunching and glass breaking, and the occasional howl, made for amusing background noise.

 

“You’re tense, you need to chill the fuck out,” Vogle said casually between sips of beer as he lay across a busted car-seat-turned-couch. “I can feel you from here.”

 

“I’m not tense!” Amanda scoffed. She sat cross-legged next to him on a blanket on the ground

 

“Yeah, you totally are.”

 

Amanda adjusted her ponytail, glancing over at the wild men currently jumping on the roof of the car. “Okay sure, I’m a little tense. Is that so bad?”

 

“It is if you’re with us.” Vogle sat up on his elbows. “What’s up? You wanna talk about it? Or I can just get rid of it.”

 

“I’d rather you didn’t unless it’s like, y’know. Another attack.” Amanda shrugged. “I don’t know how to talk about it.”

 

“You could just word-vom.” Vogle said with a smile. He had to have this air about him, like a carefree child with no judgements. It was so easy to talk to him, almost caring so little it was as if he had no connection to the outside world.

 

“I guess?”

 

Vogle silently nudged her to go on.

 

“I uh,” Amanda cleared her throat, reaching for the cigarettes she was keeping in her jacket. “Well, I really love being with you guys? Like this is a whole new, crazy, weird, amazing adventure for me, and it’s been so liberating and different and, like…”

 

Vogle nodded, smiling as encouragement.

 

Amanda lit the cigarette in her hand, taking a drag before she continued. “I’ve never felt this safe and sure that I was okay. And the reason _why_ I’m safe is even crazier. Like, you guys just… eat… my pain… and it’s. Well. It’s bizarre but I’m not about to question something like that!”

 

Vogle laughed, shaking his head. “And… what? That’s it? You can’t be upset about that.”

 

“I’m not! I’m just saying like,” taking another drag, Amanda looked up at the setting sun. “I don’t want to fuck all that up.”

 

“How would you fuck anything up? You’re awesome!” Vogle shifted to leaning on his knees, his face barely two feet from Amanda’s face. “Unless you mean what I think you mean.”

 

“What do you _think_ I mean?”

 

“I think you should tell me first so I don’t say something stupid.”

 

Amanda hesitated. “Wait. Can I ask you something first?”

 

“Sure, what?”

 

“Can I touch your hand?” Amanda extended her arm from her jacket, exposing a bit more of her arm.

 

Vogle smiled knowingly, giving her his hand without a word.

 

“Oh! It is the same…” Amanda withdrew her hand slowly, studying where her finger tips had brushed his palm, as if the fizzing might still be there in a physical form.

 

“It’s a fun little quirk of being like us,” Vogle sing-songed, flexing his hand out above his face. “So, what were you going to say before?”

 

Groaning, Amanda bit her lip before deciding to just come out with it. “I think… I _like_ Martin? Like… yeah. Just that.”

 

“Ohh.”

 

“Oh?”

 

_“Oh!”_

 

“What does ‘oh’ mean?” Amanda furrowed her brow, laughing at the look of faux surprise on Vogle’s face.

 

“Means I knew that!” Vogle reached forward, slapping her on the shoulder.

 

“Oh. I guess I shouldn’t bother asking _how,”_ Amanda laughed awkwardly. “But, wouldn’t that mean _he_ knows too, then?”

 

“Maybe? I don’t think Martin’s ever paid much mind to people’s feelings in that sense.”

 

“I see. Well… anyway, yeah that’s it. And that’s pretty much why I don’t want to fuck anything up. What you guys have here is _so good_ , I don’t want to be some idiot that messes it up by being emotional or dramatic.”

 

“You wouldn’t be,” Vogle, snatched the cigarette from her mouth, taking a long inhale. “We don’t get jealous like that. If you like him, go for it, no one’s mad. There’s no rules here about how this relationship works.”

 

“Oh…” Amanda thought about what he meant, and what ‘this relationship’ meant.

 

“It means we don’t put labels on things, it’s easier since we can feel what the others are feeling.” Vogle resumed his previous position, kicking his feet up over the side of the seats.

 

“How…”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” He said with a wink.

 

“And if it doesn’t work out? If he doesn’t feel the same?” Amanda scrunched her toes in her boots, uncomfortable with the thought of that possibility.

 

“Who knows, but I doubt he’d take it badly. But,” Vogle finished off the cigarette he stole, dropping the butt on the dusty ground. “you wouldn’t be the first to be into him like that.”

 

“Well, duh…” Amanda folded her arms and bowed her head, contemplating how she’d even bring it up. “Thanks.”

 

“No prob!”

 

 

**/**

 

 

That night the crew sat in a circle, passing around a few rather large joints, artfully rolled by Amanda. She was always pretty good at that, if she said so herself. 

 

Vogle became even more giggly when he was high, slamming his hands on the table as he laughed at every joke. Gripps giggled more too, though he also grew very thoughtful, wondering aloud about the stars in the sky. Cross got sleepy, leaning lazily against his arms as he halfassedly participated in the conversation. 

 

Martin, interestingly enough, seemed to let his guard down a bit. He smiled dopily as he took a long drag from the joint, blowing the smoke from his nose as he chuckled along with everyone else. Amanda observed him from across the table, taking note of how he'd slowly lean into Cross' side, and then reposition himself after a few minutes with a short sniff.

 

"Y'feelin' okay there, drummer girl?" Martin drawled from behind a cloud of smoke. 

 

"Yeah yeah, this isn't the first time I've been high you know." Amanda said behind a smirk as she accepted the passing of the short roach. 

 

"Yeah Martin, she's done this lots I'll bet!" Vogle nudged Amanda with his elbow and gave her a knowing look. "She rolls like a pro!"

 

"Cross used to roll," Gripps mused quietly. He was currently fixated with painting his nails, drifting out and back into the events around him. 

 

"She's better than me at it, that's for sure." Cross threw a sweet, albeit a bit scruffy, smile across the table where Amanda sat. 

 

Martin laughed softly, his glasses sliding down his nose. He scrunched his face to fix them, but decided to remove them all together to rub hands over his face instead. 

 

"You look tired, Martin. I'm tired... and baked. Aren't you guys tired?" Vogle rambled blearily, looking around the table with heavy eyelids. He stopped momentarily on Amanda, raising his eyebrows before leaping out of his chair.

 

"I'm so stoned," Gripps mumbled from beneath folded arms. "I may as well be a gravestone..."

 

Cross gave a delayed but bellowing laugh, before slamming his head down into the table. 

 

“Well, we’re up bright n' early to haul ass out of state tomorrow." Martin pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up as he leaned back in his chair.

 

 _"Goodniiiiiight!”_ Vogle stumbled off to the van, with Cross following behind him.

 

"Night Mar.” Gripps said jokingly, trudging along with them.

 

Amanda sat across the table from Martin, watching the smoke curl from his mouth and surround his white blonde hair, obscuring his eyes from view. The fire behind him crackled, just glowing enough to cast his face and shoulders in an amber glow. 

 

"Goodnight!" She called after them. 

 

"You're not tired?" Martin's voice floated through the smoke.

 

"Not really," Amanda hummed. "Why, you want me gone?"

 

Martin replaced his glasses. “Don’t matter what I think, what you do's up to you, drummer.“

 

"Well, yeah, but I mean do _you_ want me here?" Amanda did her best to sound flippant, like she didn't care either way. But really, she wanted to hear the confirmation from his mouth that her company was wanted, not just as a source of sustenance. 

 

Martin growled with the hint of a laugh at the end, shaking his head. "You think we don't want you here?" He took another drag from the crumpled cigarette between his fingers. "We're not exactly the types to keep people around we don't like."

 

"Well, that's obvious," Amanda sighed. "But what I asked was if _you_ want me here. You... do you mind if I sit closer? It's weird trying to talk from his far." Amanda stood up, moving to the seat nearest to Martin, but shifting it slightly so it wasn't as close. 

 

Martin grumbled a sound that felt a bit like sarcastic disapproval. 

 

"This is why I asked, I mean, you got like... mad? Last night? And I can't tell what you're thinking. You don't talk much." Amanda sighed, stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets. "You guys are weird."

 

Martin's posture seemed to change, the last of the smoke he'd inhaled pouring from his nose. "Are you lookin' for an answer for you, or for the truth?"

 

Amanda was taken aback. "Uh, the truth? Obviously..."

 

Martin's eyebrows raised beyond the top of his glasses. "To put it simply, you already know we can feel what you feel."

 

"Yeah." 

 

"When you," Martin cleared his throat. "make physical contact—"

 

"When I touched you?"

 

Martin huffed at being interrupted. "Yes. It makes the feeling stronger. And we're—" he cut himself off, not wanting to speak for the others. "I'm not exactly used to bein’ touched like that."

 

"You're not..." Amanda narrowed her eyes, trying to be careful in how she chose her words. "You don't like to be touched?"

 

"I'm not _used_ to being touched." Martin corrected her. He reached for the cigarette pack on the table, sighing as he tried to clear the fog of weed from his head. "Is that enough of an answer?"

 

"I guess? I just want to know I'm not crossing a line with you, that's all."

 

Martin reached over the table, placing an open palm in front of Amanda. She glanced down and back up, catching his blue eyes. Reaching out slowly, she placed her hand in his, feeling a strange tingle not unlike static moving up her arm. 

 

"You're not." Martin squeezed, the static turning more intense.

 

Amanda lingered, curiosity peaked by the bizarre fizzing between their skin. “What is this?”

 

“Energy feedback,” Martin flexed his ringed hand in hers, lifting slightly to show her how it changed with less contact.

 

“Does it feel strange to you, too?” Amanda asked, curling her fingers back into herself.

 

Martin grunted in affirmation. “I suppose. It’s like a snack.”

 

“A snack!” Amanda laughed and shook her head. “You guys really do have that vampire thing down pat.”

 

Martin shrugged. He dropped his cigarette on the ground to stamp out as he headed to the van himself. “You plannin’ on staying up all night?”

 

“Nah.” Amanda followed, watching the last of the fire smoulder into ash as they headed to join the pile of sleeping bodies. It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny the tension between them, but Amanda didn’t know how to approach it. Despite all their violent, loud behaviour, every man was more than respectful and made it clear Amanda was an equal in their group, not to be treated any differently or made uncomfortable. It felt so good to be a part of something like that 

 

 

/

 

 

 

The next day was a long haul out of Seattle to just over the boarder of Oregon. Their destination was San Francisco, but with no sense of time or urgency, a road trip felt more like an endless party. Everyone took turns driving, with the back filled with cigarette smoke and an awful lot of yelling.

 

There were a few pit stops along the way to let off some steam (and piss). They terrorized a gas station, though not causing as much damage as they usually did, and made off with a cooler full of twinkies, chips, candy, and assorted drinks.

 

“You guys like junk food? Don’t you like, not need real food?” Amanda asked as she cracked open a can of cheap beer.

 

“Just ‘cause we don’t _need it_ doesn’t mean we don’t like it,” Cross winked before cramming an entire twinkie into his mouth. “We got tongues, don’t we?”

 

Vogle punctuated this statement by sticking his out.

 

Martin slouched against the back of one of the seats, nodding in and out of a nap with a cigarette crumbling to ash in his hand. Amanda watched him out of the corner of her eye, wanting to ask about that sensation from the previous night. She couldn’t help it, she was constantly wondering what it would feel like if it was her entire body, no clothes, his skin on hers and

 

 _“AMANDAAAHHH CHUG IT!”_ Vogle thrust a second spewing can of beer into her free hand, egging her on with Cross. Gripps cheered from the drivers seat, fist pumping to the ceiling.

 

Martin promptly woke up from the noise, a tight smile obscured by his scruffy beard and his chin resting on one knee.

 

Amanda did her best to throw the beer down her throat, barely paying any attention to the stray drops streaming down her neck. She was free, living like she hadn’t in so many years, with people she felt like she’d known her whole life.

 

Eventually the crew decided to tuck in for the night, parking at an abandoned trucker’s motel. The building had this charming late 60s feel to it, though most everything was crumbling away from years of neglect. There were still beds, and most of the rooms had had their doors kicked in. It looked like quite a few people had already been here, though it seemed in somewhat decent shape all things considered.

 

“I’m gonna fuckin’ smash it!” Vogle practically screamed as he ran to the nearest room with a sledgehammer, the sound of shattering glass and crunching wood quickly following.

 

Gripps had a can of bright lime spray paint, and was taking his time scrawling a massive 3 across the largest wall beside the empty pool.

 

“Shouldn’t it be like… four now?”

 

Gripps looked back at her with a question on his face.

 

“Wouldn’t it be five?” Martin chimed in as he walked past, dragging his bat on the ground with him.

 

Amanda couldn’t help but smile as she felt her cheeks heat up, it felt so good to hear she was an official part of their group. “But I don’t have like,” she shrugged. “sick powers? You guys are vampires, how cool could I be to a group of vampires?”

 

“The coolest.” Gripps said assuredly, returning to his handiwork.

 

Amanda was a little taken back. “Thanks,” was about all she could manage. Taking a look around the dark motel compound, she decided to pick her place to sleep. Wandering off into the strip of open motel rooms doors, she looked in each one, observing the different themes they seemed to have. Orange and yellow, a mint blue one, black and white, and so on. She decided to check out a dreamy looking purple and white room, as it looked the least beat up. She tested the lights, but found the electricity was cut, of course. Just as she was about to head back to to see what options she had, Vogle showed up with a small camp-style lantern in one hand, and a rolled up blanket from the van tucked under the other arm.

 

“Sleep tight!” he grinned wide, handing them to her before heading off to his own bed.

 

Amanda brought the lantern into the room, placing it on a small coffee table before testing to see what the mattresses felt like. Throwing herself against the bed, she found herself pleasantly surprised by the lack of lumps. There were no sheets, so she laid the blanket over the mattress before settling down for the night. She kicked off her boots and shucked her heavy leather jacket, then her jeans, leaving her in just underwear and t-shirt. It felt good to be free of her skinny jeans and leather, her skin could breathe again. She pulled the elastic from her hair, letting it fall loose before lying back onto the bed. She closed her eyes, rolling over onto her stomach and burying her head into her arms, letting the gentle glow of the lantern sooth her into a light sleep.

 

 

**/**

 

 

Alone now, it was probably close to two in the morning, and Martin was wandering the strip of doors. With glasses perched on his head, he rubbed at the corners of his eyes with one hand and the other tucked in his pants pocket. He had a headache, and although everyone else was asleep, he still felt it was his duty to act as the protector of their pack. Although the night was young and the air was still, he was beginning to feel things were not as they should be. Instinctually turning into one of the rooms, he found Amanda rocking back and forth, muttering to herself as she rung her hands.

 

“Whoa, whoa! Shhh, it’ll all be gone…” Martin quickly sat down next to her, placing a palm on the exposed skin of her arm, feeling the electricity as the energy began to pull from her body into his. It was invigorating and gave him so much to take that pain from her, the emotions were so strong. In a matter of moments, all of Amanda’s pain dissipated, leaving her with nothing but deep breaths and wide eyes.

 

“There, you don’t have to deal with that shit anymore.” Martin retracted his hand as he stood, doing Amanda the courtesy of looking at the floor instead of at her bare legs.

 

Amanda gasped quietly, a rush of endorphins hitting her in lieu of the visions of ice consuming her. “I know, thanks… But, you don’t have to…” She reached out, gripping the fabric of his sleeve tightly. “Don’t go. I don’t want to be alone again.”

 

Martin looked over his shoulder, his back straightening out. “You don’t have to be alone, but are you sure you want me here?”

 

“Of course, but, like…” Amanda sighed. “Can I talk to you? Like, seriously?”

 

Martin grunted.

 

“Cool. Well, first of all, you can look at me, I don’t care.”

 

Turning around, Martin replaced his glasses, getting a better look at the expression Amanda was wearing. She looked, and felt, tenser than he thought she should be. “What is it?”

 

“I don’t know how to say it. I’ve never been good at talking to people like _seriously,_ let alone with like, crazy vampires I just met.” She laughed nervously, running a hand through her wild hair. “But, I can’t stop thinking about that _thing_.”

 

“That thing?” Martin’s eyes narrowed.

 

“This,” Amanda placed her palm on the exposed skin of his forearm, feeling that bizarre tingle again. It was almost like pins and needles, like her hand fell asleep, but more distinctive, and pleasant. “thing.”

 

He inhaled sharply.

 

“I don’t mind being a ‘snack’ sometimes.” She smirked. “I just mean, when I touch you, it’s like…” Amanda made a vague gesture, releasing her touch. “I want to feel that more. It’s almost like a drug. Almost? I don’t know how to describe it, sort of like a really good painkiller.”

 

Exhaling, Martin shook his head.

 

“What? Look, I, I don’t know how to say this but,” Amanda cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I like you, and not just because of this thing. But it’s just making it harder for me to… to not say anything.”

 

Martin repositioned himself, his face turning from patient to something closer to what he looked like when they were smashing things up.

 

“Please say _something!_ I can’t read your mind!” Amanda sat up. “If that was stupid to say, please just tell me so I can—“

 

She promptly found herself cut off by the rough texture of beard meeting her face, and _oh god_ the static became so overwhelming her face felt numb. Martin was kissing her, carefully, but she could feel the soft press of his lips and all the feedback that came with it. His hands pressed against her knees, creating ripples of tingling that travelled up her thighs and down to her toes. When the kiss broke, Amanda practically felt out of breath.

 

“You… _that….”_ she breathed, her eyes glossy.

 

“Knew you felt like that, but had to wait for you to say it.” Martin’s eyes roved down to where his hands rest on her legs, then back up. “You tell me if this ain’t okay and I’m gone, promise.”

 

Amanda practically threw herself back on him, wrapping arms around his neck to pull his face closer. He smelled like cigarettes, and sweat, and motor oil… and a little like Irish Spring? Falling backwards into the mattress, she could barely feel her face, but knew she must have been smiling ear to ear through the kiss. She bit Martin’s bottom lip, loving how he leaned into her.

 

“You’re…” he laughed, falling over her onto his elbows. “Fuck, you’re not kidding around.”

 

“Why would I be?” Amanda breathed into his collar, her hands fumbling to undo the buttons of his vest. “You’re wearing too much…”

 

Without saying a word, Martin stood up, removing his vest and the dusty black shirt underneath, and revealed a set of tattoos spanning across his chest she never knew were there.

 

“I don’t have pants on, you know…” Amanda teased, lying back and kicking a leg into the air.

 

With a growl and a positively devilish smirk, Martin slowly undid the buckle of his belt, then the top button of his pants, then the zipper…

 

Amanda made an impatient noise.

 

Tutting softly, he peeled himself from his ripped black jeans, leaving him only in his ink and skin-tight skivvies. “You tell me where this is goin’.”

 

“Uh… I thought we both had the same idea here?” Amanda sat up, the smile on her lips holding on pause.

 

“What I’m saying is,” Martin reached forward, tracing a single finger down the line of her neck, generating more static as it drifted over her skin. “Do you want me to play nice?”

 

Amanda practically shuddered at the implications of the question. “I…”

 

Leaning forward and crawling over her onto the bed, Martin spoke _so_ softly next to her ear. “It’s up to you. You know how we like to have fun.”

 

 _“Fuck…”_ Amanda pressed her head back into the blanket. “I don’t want nice, I want you to be like you always are. Fucking… _fuck me._ Be _rowdy,_ I can take it. I want it.”

 

With that, Amanda quickly found herself being picked up and held against the closest wall with arms above her head, Martin’s free hand shoving her shirt up to uncover her breasts as he kissed his way up her stomach. Her whole body tingled, her skin felt hot and just _burning_ for this, for more.

 

“God, _please…”_

 

“Please _what?”_ Martin purred, his tongue lapping over her hip. “I thought you didn’t want me to be nice.” He released her, however, giving Amanda a moment to catch her breath.

 

"I don't." She hurriedly pulled her shirt off, and then reached for the edge of Martin’s underwear. “Can I…?”

 

Taking a moment to admire her slender, pale frame, Martin let his eyes roam down her body before nodding. He placed his hands on hers, encouraging her to go ahead.

 

With held breath, she tugged at the elastic, peeling back the fabric to where the happy trail of dark hair lead into more, and let his hardness spring free from it.

 

Amanda bit her lip, wanting nothing more than to just devour the man above her. "Move, let me—"

 

Martin stood, pushing Amanda to her knees before him. He grabbed her roughly by the hair, threading his fingers through it easily as he lead her to follow his motions. Amanda followed eagerly, mouth open and inviting.

 

Pushing forward, his cock slid along her tongue, gloriously thick and practically radiating with that same staticky feedback.

 

Martin growled something deep and low, sending shivers down Amanda's spine. She moved slowly, feeling the sharp tug of her hair guide her back and forth.

 

Martin cursed, Amanda smiled, and suddenly she was being shoved off backwards into the bed again. He moved with the speed of a starving animal, ripping her panties off in one swift motion before diving straight between her legs.

 

 _"Oh fuck!”_ Amanda threw her head back, her neon green nails digging into the fleece blanket beneath her. She wrapped her legs around Martin's shoulders, practically riding his face with every hungry motion he licked into her, as he sent shockwaves of feedback through her. His beard scratched at her legs, and his glasses felt cold against her skin, but _fuck_ if this wasn't exactly what she wanted. His tongue painted long strokes down her clit to her ass, and he rumbled something fierce as he felt her getting closer.

 

"Don't... make me—" Amanda's breath hitched, her breathing becoming ragged as she fought to speak. "Fuck me! Don't just— _hah_."

 

Martin's head popped up from where it looked _so_ nice, his glasses crooked and his mouth beautifully glistening wet. _"Hmmm?"_

 

"As much as I love that," Amanda propped herself up to get a better look at him. His skin was gorgeously scared and inked, so rough from wear and tear, and seemingly stained with grime from who knows what. It was almost too much. "What I really want right now is you inside me. Please?"

 

"Sweetheart, you don't have to ask me twice,” Martin rose to his knees, his eyes fixated on her body like he already knew what she wanted. "Flip over."

 

Following his command, Amanda rolled over, practically offering her ass to him. With a hot puff of breath on her neck, she felt his weight, his skin, against her back. The satisfyingly warm fizzing feeling filled her, trickling from her back down to her ass, and then, _oh._

 

Martin pushed into her so easily, the friction so blissfully tight and unlike anything she'd felt before. Amanda cried out, unable to keep quiet as he rode into her slowly, feeling how she responded under him. His hands grasped her wrists, pulling them around to be held captive as he fucked her.

 

Martin groaned, picking up speed and devouring the feedback she was giving. Every little whimper, every exhale mixed with a curse, felt so delicious he could hardly control himself. Each thrust grew harder, rougher as he straightened out to an almost kneeing position, watching himself pull in and out of her, pressing into her ass so firmly it ached.

 

"God, _fuck_ , I-I'm gonna..." Amanda wriggled beneath him, her cries growing more erratic and her body tensing.

 

Martin's eyes practically rolled back into his head as she came around him, her orgasm feeling unlike anything else she gave him. It rolled into him like a tidal wave, sending him over the edge as he pulled back, spilling over Amanda's back and trickling down the curves of her ass.

 

Collapsing into the mattress beside her, Martin revelled in the way the shockwaves radiated off of them. Taking a moment, he turned his head to look at Amanda, her eyes just barely peeking through the disaster that was her hair.

 

 _"Oh my god..."_ Amanda buried her face into the bed, her voice muffled. "I don't think I've ever come that hard."

 

Martin growled something that sounded like agreement, his sweaty body barely moving from where it lay.

 

"What... what was that like for you?" She attempted to sit upright, but was quickly reminded of the mess on her back and decided against it. "I felt that... you were eating? Feeding? I don't know what to call it."

 

Martin nodded, struggling to sit upright on the bed to help her clean up. "Yeah. It's hard not to when you're..." he glanced at her body. "Like that. Wait there."

 

Pulling his underwear back on, Martin paced to the bathroom, disappearing for a moment before returning with a packaged face cloth. "Lucky us, hm?" He wiped her back down, handed Amanda what was hers from discarded pile of clothing on the floor, and crawled back on the bed to lie down.

 

Amanda redressed and pulled her hair into a ponytail, observing the way Martin had laid across the bed, his arms tucked up behind his head and one leg crossed over the other. "Are you a cuddler? I'm guessing not."

 

"What makes you think not?" Martin adjusted his glasses with a scrunch of his nose.

 

"Dunno, guess you'd probably find it too much?" Amanda sat beside him, careful to not touch skin to skin.

 

"C'mere you," Martin reached out to pull her in by the waist, the tingling sensation still there but feeling more residual than intense. He tucked her into his side, leaning his head on hers. "I cuddle just fine, see?"

 

Smiling to herself, Amanda had a realization. "Do you think the others heard us?"

 

Martin barked a short laugh. "More’n likely."

 

"Fuck..." Amanda buried her face in the crook of his arm.

 

"Don't sweat it, they don't care." Martin ran a hand down the curve of her side. "You think I haven't heard them with someone before?"

 

"But isn't it weird that I'm like... here? Always?"

 

"Not really." Martin reached for his vest pocket, pulling his cigarette pack out. Lighting one and then taking a drag, he passed it to Amanda. "Look, we don't really do possessiveness here. If you wanna fuck someone else, be my guest."

 

"Uh," Amanda took her time with the cigarette, enjoying the way it soothed her electrified nerves. "I guess that's cool. I like the lack of rules here. _The only rule is there are no rules!_ " She laughed to herself, passing back to Martin.

 

He rumbled in agreement, finishing the last of the cigarette before reaching to turn off the lantern. "You should get some sleep."

 

"Do vampires not need to sleep or something?" Amanda turned over to her side, spooning against Martin's back in the dark.

 

"Sure we do, just not as much if we're well fed."

 

"That sounds kinda gross."

 

"I guess we are kinda gross."

 

"... well I like it. I like being gross, too."

 

"Damn right, y'do."


End file.
